


Breakdowns in Communication

by darkling59



Series: Annals of the Incomplete [24]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise, The Pretender
Genre: Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-17 23:18:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3547448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkling59/pseuds/darkling59
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unwittingly taken into space, Angelo escapes into the vents of the Enterprise and 'rescues' Porthos from Archer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakdowns in Communication

“Oh…no, you see…umm….look…” The stranger, if anything, seemed nervous. He kept trying to edge around T’Pol towards the other man, the one with Porthos. The fact that he was trying as hard as he could NOT to stare at the Vulcan’s breasts was all too obvious.

But while that bit of trivia was amusing, Captain Archer was far more affected by the previous bombshell Mr. Broots had dropped.

“Are you saying this man…this HUMAN…is your CARGO?!?!” Broots fidgeted, staring longingly at the door across the room and trying not to answer. The captain’s eyes narrowed angrily and T’Pol…well, she didn’t really do anything but those who knew how to gage her emotions would have been able to tell that she was no more enchanted by their guest’s behavior than her captain.

“Mr. Broots.” The tech flinched at the tone and began to examine the floor unhappily. He knew his argument was weak; hell, there was no reason they should let him go; but it was what Ms. Parker had told him to say so…

“I…er…well…he…you see…”

“Broots scared.”

“No shit Angelo.” He muttered under his breath, shooting an annoyed glare at the empath’s hiding place. He drew a deep breath, ready to launch into a new stream of stuttered excuses but let it out in a huff when he realized he was no longer the center the of attention.

“So you can speak. Would you mind coming out of there?” Archer coaxed. Glittering eyes blinked once in response to the even tone but didn’t move.

Captain Archer knelt in front of the abandoned ventilation shaft, trying to convey reassurance even though he was still extremely confused and divided on what to do. On one hand, the strange person in the vent had broken into his quarters undetected (a feat Trip was still trying to figure out) and stolen Porthos. On the other hand, the Centre operative T’Pol was holding at phaserpoint had all but admitted to the fact that his organization had experimented on the man and treated him like a slave or cargo.

Things were so much easier when the bad guys weren’t emissaries onboard at Starfleet’s command.

“Leader confused.”

The strange statement made Archer’s smile waver slightly. How did this guy know so much? “No I’m not. Come on out of there; we won’t let anything happen to you.”

No response.

“Please?”

Still no response.

He bit back an exasperated sigh. Normally he would be more than ready to call in some crewmen to help him drag the fugitive out but Porthos was in there too. Who knew what the guy would do when threatened?

“Could you at least let my dog go?”

“Puppy lonely…”

“What?” So far his statements, brief and cryptic though they were, had made sense but that one... “Porthos is lonely?”

“Why does he not then let the creature go?” Archer shot a quick, grateful look at T’pol for the suggestion but she didn’t shift her eyes from her jittery captive.

“You heard her, Mr…” he turned back to the vent and delayed, waiting for a name that came from an entirely unexpected direction.

“Angelo.”

“What?” The captive swallowed heavily and edged away from T’pol a few inches. Was he…scared of her?

“H-his name is Angelo. He doesn’t talk much. Look, if I could just…”

“No.” Neither Archer nor T’pol hesitated in their response. Broots seemed to deflate slightly, biting his lip and staring at the deck plating, but didn’t ask again.

“Alright. Mr. Angelo, if Porthos is lonely, why don’t you let him go? There are plenty of us out here to keep him company.”

The captain held his breath, hoping for a response.

“Not now. Puppy lonely then. Find.”

“Look you little halfwit, if you don’t let my dog go, I’ll…”

“Captain.” The sharp edge in T’pol’s tone was next to unnoticeable but Archer caught it and restrained himself, taking a deep breath to calm and steady. When he peered into the blackness again, the shape within seemed to be even further back as a result of his tirade. He cursed sharply, turning away from the opening and pacing in front of it.

A muted whine drew him back like a moth to flame.

“Porthos? Buddy? You okay in there?”

A low yip was his response and he was halfway into the crawlspace before remembering he wasn’t spry or small enough to make it all the way in. He retreated unhappily, glowering at the murky silhouette holding his dog hostage as threateningly as he could.

“Mr. Angelo…” he growled desperately “If you don’t…”

“Umm…threats w-won’t work.” The Center operative flinched back and directed his gaze to the wall across the room when Archer came forward and tried to glare into his eyes

“What. Do. You. Mean.”

“Broots scared. Leader angry.”

The soft comment drew a grimace from Archer, a raised eyebrow from T’pol, and a vague eye roll from their captive.

“WHY does he keep talking like that?”

“Perhaps the better question would be ‘what has the Center done to him’.” T’pol intoned.

“I…er…um….can’treallytellyou.”

“You can’t tell. Care to tell us why?”

“It’s…um…a secret.”

“A secret.” Something in the captain’s eyes must have been truly terrifying because the technician actually moved towards T’pol, practically vibrating in fear.

“Y-yeah…look, I can’t tell. Really. If I tell…well, let’s just say ‘long walk off a short pier’ doesn’t begin to cover it.”

 _I don’t like the sound of that…_ Archer backed off slightly but kept a hard glare aimed in the Broots’ direction as he considered what had been said and how to use it. “Do you think you might be able to get him out of there?”

“Huh?”

“You’re one of his handlers, aren’t you?”

“I…guess so.”

Conscious of T’pol’s hard gaze, Archer reached forward and grabbed Broots by the arm, pulling him towards the ventilation duct.

“So get him out.”

“I…um, I guess I can try.”

Archer nodded and stepped back slightly, barely noticing T’pol’s presence at his side through his concern for Porthos.

Broots, still pale and shaking as ever, knelt in front of the blackness and called inside softly, as if speaking to a child.

“Angelo?”

Four glittering eyes stared back at him and he jumped, pulling away slightly before Archer shoved him back. “Porthos is in there too. I want both of them out.”

“Oh. Right. The dog. It’s not like Angelo will hurt him or anything…”

“Just get him out.”

“Yeah…” he muttered in resignation, turning back. “Angelo? Are you okay?”

A vague scratching sound but no spoken response.

“Can you come out here for me? Please?”

Archer ‘hmphed’ and crossed his arms when a slight muttering sound was Broots’ only reply.

“PLEASE Angelo! We’re both going to be in trouble if you don’t!” The softness was fading into desperation. “With Ms. Parker, her father, Mr. Raines, Mr. Lyle…hell, even the triumvirate might-”

A giggle cut him off. “Puppy.”

“I know there’s a puppy in there with you. Could you bring him out please?”

“Lonely. Alone. Dark. Cold.”

“What does he mean by that?” Archer crouched down next to Broots, a foot or so out of sight of the vent and whispered into his ear.

Broots bit his lip and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Puppy puppy still. Still puppy. Like Friend?”

“Angelo…” Broots groaned and the crew members exchanged a sharp look of surprise. He’d understood that?

“Puppy like Friend?”

“I don’t know Angelo. He’s still himself because…well, because he IS! And he might like Jarod…if Jarod likes dogs which I don’t know…Can we please not do this now?”

“Puppy still puppy…”

“Yes…why don’t you come out of there; you can ask Sydney about comparing the dog to Jarod later, okay?”

The form in the vent shuffled forward a little ways but not enough to be easily visible or reached. Archer stood up again, moving around to the other side of the pipe expectantly. His movement caused the younger man to freeze and take tighter hold of his charge.

“Leader angry.”

“Who is ‘Leader’?” Archer scowled at Broots as he asked his question and Angelo shuffled backwards.

“I’m guessing you are.” The tech sat back on his heals with a sigh. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to get him out while you’re here.”

“Excuse me? That’s MY dog in there! I-.”

“Angelo’s an empath, Captain Archer. He won’t come out so long as he senses you’re still upset.”

The gaped response Broots got didn’t surprise him in the least. Why was it people were so surprised about Angelo’s abilities? Or it could have been the fact that he’d shown some backbone…he scowled and stared glumly at Angelo’s silhouette. He’d really wanted to stay out of trouble on this mission too…oh well.

“We aren’t leaving you in here on your own, Mr. Broots.” The tone brooked no argument.

“Then I don’t think I’m going to be able to get him out, Captain. Sorry. If I could call Sydney, he might be able to but you already said-.”

“I’LL call him.” With annoyed haste, the captain pulled out his communicator and called for Hoshi. When she answered, he paused and asked for a name then ordered for a ‘Dr. Sydney Green’ to be paged on the intercom. Hoshi, though confused, did as he asked.


End file.
